Weakness
by Ketharil
Summary: AU. Jaina Solo must confront Kyp Durron after he has returned to the Dark Side. Completed.


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            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

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            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

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            **Details:**

            Name: Weakness

            Time Frame: AU Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: Jaina must confront a Dark Side Kyp.

            Rating: PG-13

            Warnings: Character death.

            Story Status: Completed.

            Notes: AU, very obviously.

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            As always, reviews are appreciated.

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Jaina ignored the blaring alarms and flashing lights.  She worked her way through the crowded hall.  Most people were trying to reach the transports; she was the only person moving towards the center of the ship.  The halls were packed with fleeing refugees; smoke and noise were everywhere.  

            She ducked off the main hall and into a less-crowded, smaller corridor.  It was easier to move against traffic; she reached her destination in a few minutes.  

            This room was just as smoke-filled, just as loud, but here the panic was slightly less.  Her uncle looked up at her as she entered.

            "The engines are slag," she said, moving toward the group.  "We're not going anywhere.  How long before he boards?"

            Luke's eyes grew distant.  "Ten minutes.  At the most."

            Jacen shook his head.  "It'll take us more than that to evacuate everyone.  I'll tell the teams to stand by; we're going to need them to guard the children."  The buzz of conversation droned up louder than before as all readied for the slaughter that was sure to come

            "How much longer will it take to evacuate?"  Jaina's words were soft; the room slowly quieted.  Heads turned toward her, but no one answered.  She turned to her aunt.  "How long will it take to completely evacuate the ship?"

            "Twenty minutes," Mara said, green eyes sharp.  "Jaina, don't."

            "You'll have twenty minutes," Jaina said, ignoring her.  "Probably not much more than that, but you'll have twenty minutes."  She glanced at the chrono hanging over the room.  "Starting now."

            Her father looked furious.  "Now just a minute, young lady.  I don't know what damn-fool plan you've got, but you're going to give it up right now and get yourself on a transport."

            Jaina looked at him.  Han was older, greyer, but still the man she had loved all her life for being her father.  "No," she said simply, and her heart hurt to deny him.  "I'm the only one who can stop him."

            Her mother reached out for her, tears bright in her eyes.  "Jaina, love . . ."

            Jaina stepped forward and hugged her one last time.  "I have to," she said.  She turned to her father and hugged him.  "Just make sure all of you reach the transports in time."

            Han kissed the top of her head.  "I love you, Jaina."  But resignation was in his voice; he released her.

            So little time to say a final farewell to those she loved.  The room was already emptying as the commanders and leaders began to retreat; Jaina faced Jacen.  "Twin," she said, and managed a faint smile.

            "Good luck," he whispered, and crushed her in a strong embrace.  Her aunt and uncle both hugged her, and as her uncle released her, he said, "May the Force be with you."

            Jaina nodded, willed away her tears, and gazed for a long moment at her family.  "Get to the transports," she said hoarsely, and turned her back on them.

            The docking bay was deserted when she reached it; his ship had already touched down and was going through the landing cycle. _Fifteen minutes left_, she thought, and came to a stop at the edge of the hanger.  

            Only one man had ever been able to cause this mass exodus from a ship before, and that had been her grandfather.  They compared Darth Vader with him now; she could see why.  Two immensely powerful Jedi, both fallen to darkness, both Sith Lords.

            But Vader had returned to the light in the end.  Kyp Durron had tried redemption, found that he didn't care for it, and had slid back to darkness some twenty years later.

            She wondered if her grandmother had stood like this, waiting to face her grandfather like she was waiting to face Kyp.

            She doubted he would return to the light again.  He had won the war against the Vong, of course, but peace hadn't suited him, and the Republic soon found itself under attack.  Like the first Republic, the second crumbled and fell all too quickly under the assault of a Sith Lord.  The Jedi had been hard-pressed to survive the attacks.

            They wouldn't survive at all if Jaina couldn't buy another fourteen minutes of time.  She could feel them in the back of her mind, crowding onto the transports with other refugees.  The fate of the Jedi Order rested in her hands.

            Her hands were shaking; she linked them together in front of her to keep the trembling from showing.  She couldn't show any weakness when he emerged; weaknesses were dangerous.

            That was why she was here, after all.  She understood weaknesses– she understood _his_ weakness.  

            Not many did; her uncle did, certainly, and he would have no doubt told her parents by now.  She wondered if, after today, if she succeeded and the Jedi survived, the others would understand why she was the one who had gone to meet Lord Durron in the empty, echoing hanging bay.

            They would look and see the most obvious reason, the reason that her uncle understood.  She was Lord Durron's weakness.  She'd always been his weakness; her refusal to join him had angered him and made the weakness obvious to all who had witnessed it.  Luke was the only other survival of that meeting, which was the only reason he'd known Durron's weakness.

            That was the reason that they would see: Jaina Solo had gone forth to buy time for the Jedi because she knew that she was Lord Durron's only weak point.  That was how she would be remembered in history, the noble Jedi who sacrificed herself to let others live.

            But it wasn't the only reason she was here.

            The landing ramp slid down, hissing as the air pressurized.  Fear and anticipation mixed in Jaina's heart.  No, she might be his weakness, but she was all too aware that it was a double-edged vibroblade.  Whatever weakness she represented to him, he was to her.  If anything could tempt her over to the Dark again, it would be her former Master.

            Why did she have to love the one man that she should hate?

            He strode down the ramp, black cape billowing behind him, scarlet lightsaber already ignited and held waiting.  Once his lightsaber had been the same violet as hers; she had destroyed that lightsaber soon after he'd turned, in their first duel.

            Everyone said that Lord Durron's eyes were cold chips of flawed emerald.  But as those eyes focused on her, Jaina knew they were wrong.  His eyes weren't cold– they burned hot as coals, intent and alight with power.  The red of his lightsaber vanished as he approached her; it was an effort not to move, to back away from him.  He had always been strong in the Force, but now his presence was tainted with the Dark Side.  It loomed up around him like a shadow.

            _Ten more minutes._

            "Jaina Solo," he said, lingering over her name, giving it that particular caress that only came from the way he said it.  She shut her eyes briefly, to try and will away the attraction.  "It's been a long time."

            "A year and a half," she said, forcing herself to meet his eyes without shivering.  "I wish I could say that it's good to see you, Kyp."

            He flinched back.  "You will address me as Lord Durron."

            A small bit of relief blossomed somewhere within her mind, just as a small bit of her wanted to cry at his words.  He was trying to detach himself from her.  If she had been normal– if she had been without a weakness herself– she should have been happy.  But because she was weak, because she needed the ten minutes, she couldn't bring herself to rejoice.  Instead, a sad smile crossed her face.  "You've always been Kyp to me."

            Some emotion shuddered briefly across his face before he managed to banish it.  He advanced a step closer toward her.  "You called me Master once before," he said quietly.  His tone turned forceful.  "You could learn to do so again."

            She shut her eyes.  "No, Kyp."

            But he knew that the Dark Side had established control over her once before; he knew that she would be tempted.  He knew what to say to make her fight difficult.

            "You could be powerful again.  More powerful that your brothers."  His voice changed, became deeper, seductive.  "You're a Goddess, Jaina.  You deserve to have the galaxy treat you as one.  Worlds would worship at your feet.  I could make you a Goddess again– I could make everyone see you for what you really are, without your family overshadowing you."

            She opened her eyes; he was standing close to her, so close she could see the brown flecks within his eyes.  "And what am I, really?" she asked hoarsely.  "What would I become, Kyp?  What you are?  I can't allow that."

            She forced her hands to remain passively clasped before her even as he lifted his left hand up and traced her face.  "No, Jaina.  You're a Goddess.  You deserve to have mere mortals granting your every wish.  You don't deserve to be here among them.  Come with me."

            Half of her coldly rejected his offer even as half of her longed to throw herself into his arms and agree with him.  Anything to not be without him again.

            But, "I can't," she whispered.  A tear traced its way down her cheek.  "I'm sorry, Kyp, I can't."

            She nearly cursed as she realized she just apologized to a Sith Lord.  He stared at her for a moment, and then he smiled.  It was the same smile she had always loved, but somehow twisted, somehow tainted.  He chuckled and bent his head closer to hers.  "So," he said softly.  "You do have a weakness."  He kissed her tear away.  "How . . . interesting."

            More tears started.  He wasn't going to make this easy for her.  "Kyp, don't," she managed.  

            But now he knew that she loved him, knew that he was her weakness, and he turned it against her.  "Come with me," he murmured, running his lips over her cheeks.  "Together we can do anything.  Come with me, Jaina."  He nipped at her jaw; her head fell back without her permission, and his lips traced the soft skin of her throat.  "You'd be my partner.  Til death, you said.  Remember?  I'd be yours."  He moved his lips back up to her face; when he spoke, his lips brushed against hers.  "And you'd be mine.  And we'd be together.  Come with me, Jaina.  Let all the worlds worship you like I do."

            What would have happened if he had asked her this four years ago, before he had turned?  Would she have been able to answer him differently?

            "I can't," Jaina moaned.

            His hands went around her, pulling her up against him.  He was warm and solid against her; her hands separated and went around him in a conscious decision to hold him.  "You can," he murmured, and kissed her, mouth gentle on hers.  His tongue touched her lips; she hesitated a heartbeat, and then wrenched herself away.

            "I can't," she moaned.  "Kyp, I can't, I love you and I can't . . ."  She was crying, sobbing for herself and for him and for what she knew had to happen.

            He had gone still at her words, and for an instant joy had flashed across his face.  She knew he had won: he had wrung from her a confession of her weakness, and he wouldn't hesitate to use it against her.  

            He pulled her back against him and kissed her again; she frantically sought escape but found none.  He was stronger than her, physically and through the Force.  She had a second's respite and tore away again, only to find that she had backed herself up against a wall.

            Fiv_e more minutes, and they're all safely away._

            He covered her, pressing her against the wall.  She had no way of escaping him.  Part of her didn't want to escape; part of her reveled in the feeling of his body hard and hot against hers.

            But part of her was still weeping.

            "Jaina," he said softly, and kissed her forehead.  "You can come with me.  I won't hurt you."  He touched his lips to hers, gentle once more.  "You'd be my Goddess.  You'd be the galaxy's Goddess.  Come with me, Jaina."

            His voice was more open than it had been through their entire exchange; she knew he was telling the truth.  But "I can't," she sobbed, even as her hands fisted in his cloak and pulled him closer.  

            "You can," he corrected softly, and brought his mouth back down on hers again.  His tongue traced her lips; she let him enter and lost herself in the heat of their kiss.  His hands moved down behind her, between her and the wall.  She could feel the fingers of his left hand tensing against her back, straining to pull her closer to him, but Kyp's right hand was a fist, lightsaber forgotten in his grip, balled hand pushing her against him.

            She lifted her hands to run her fingers through his hair.  She never thought that she'd be able to touch the black strands, never thought that she'd be cradled within his arms again before she died.  Part of her felt complete, as though her weakness in loving him had been turned to strength.

            He broke the kiss for air and looked down at her.  The light in his eyes had dimmed, and though the Dark Side still hovered like a cloak over him, his face had somehow relaxed a bit.  "Don't go," he whispered.  "Don't leave me alone again.  Stay with me.  I love you."

            It was an open admission of his own weakness, an honest plea to follow the Dark-Side promises he had made before.  

            It was too much for Jaina.  Tears broke free again, and she leaned forward, standing on her toes to capture his mouth with hers.  "I won't," she said against his lips, and he pulled back in surprise.  "I won't leave you alone again, Kyp.  We're partners.  Til death."

            His joy drove the darkness back for a beautiful second as his mouth descended on hers for a final time.  Jaina wrapped her arms around him, trying to merge with him, trying to imprint this moment into her soul for all eternity.

            _They're all safe._

            Her tongue tangled with his; the tears finally stopped.  She was in the arms of the man she loved; she was being held by the man who loved her.  She reached out for him through the Force.  There was time enough for one final message.

            _I love you._

            His arms shifted around her back, she shut her eyes and pulled his mouth down harder on hers.

            _I love you._

            She couldn't tell if he was responding to her words, or if she was merely repeating herself.  She stalled for one heartbeat longer, one heartbeat filled with love and comfort and heat, and then reached out with the Force.

            There was no warning.  His hand shifted position against his will; just as swiftly, the button depressed even though his fingers were nowhere near it.  The crimson saber ignited, spearing its way through whatever blocked its path.

            _I love you._

            They were tightly locked together; the saber was long enough to pierce through both Jaina and Kyp.  He looked down at her in shock, in confusion, but it was to late to do anything.  The lightsaber blade burned through Jaina's chest and into Kyp's.  The pain was mercifully swift; no sooner had she triggered the lightsaber's ignition than the pain began to fade.  Kyp retained enough control to shut off the lightsaber, but the damage had been done. 

_I love you._

            The world was going black at the edges, but Kyp didn't release her.  Dimly, she heard the lightsaber drop behind her; it probably hit the back of her leg, but she didn't feel it.  Kyp collapsed against her, pressing her back to the wall, no longer able to support his own weight.

            _I love you._

            Jaina bent her head forward, resting it between his shoulder and neck, and inhaled a long breath, trying to commit his scent to memory.  She had shut her eyes– she must have, because everything was black.  Kyp wasn't moving above her; no pulse fluttered under her head in his neck.  The sound of her heartbeat seemed impossibly loud and impossibly slow.  But that, too, was fading into the silence.  All that remained were three words.

            _I love you._

            And then even that faded away into nothing.

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Reviews make my day!  Tell me what you think I did well or horribly.  I appreciate constructive criticism and honest appraisals…

Thanks!

-Keth

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